


Arda High School Flour Baby Project - As Taught by Gandalf and Bilbo

by Tiamet



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Gen, Teenagers, bagginshield in the background - Freeform, child rearing, flour baby project, it's meant to be funny, school au, teen parents, those poor flour babies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:31:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6414580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiamet/pseuds/Tiamet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the fifteen students of Gandalf's Health and Family Class, it's the biggest grading project of the year.  Split into co-parenting units, given magic flour sacks that scream and giggle, the teens must cope with unimpressed parents, Arwen's shopping sprees, special needs babies, the LIfetime Movie that is Sigrid's situation, Eowyn's bossy personality and heavy schedules, Gimli's fondness for kitting, (the dwarven version of knitting), Boromir and Frodo being forced to co-parent as a way to work through their issues, and bets being laid on how long Merry and Pip's baby will last.  Bilbo runs interference with angry parents and guardians, calls emergency meetings, and bakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be a humorous project. And the kids are all going to learn things as they go. So if you take offense at some terms used in the first few chapters, give them a chance, they're going to grow up some by the end.

Arda’s High School was a well appointed building in a central location of the town. It’s wide variety of classes, eccentric teachers, and open enrollment policies made sure of it’s popularity and attracted students from every sector. Hobbits came from the Shire neighborhoods, full of row houses, gardens and gossip. Elves from leafy Mirkwood and Rivendell Estates, their large homes separated by large yards and very solid fences. Men from Gondor, Dale and Rohan and the Dwarves of Erebor Court, closer to the busy and bustling downtown, all of their children insisted on going to Arda High.

One particularly beautiful spring morning, the Headmistress, the respected and slightly feared Lady Galadriel was going over the course outline for the final section of Professor Grey’s social studies class. The morning breeze, scented with the heady perfume of the lilacs outside the window did little to cover the scent of the pipe weed billowing from the two gentlemen in front of her.

“Bilbo, we’re very glad to have you along on this one,” Galadriel said, with her soft smile. “It may take some sensitivity and gentle handling to get the kids through this.”

Bilbo Baggins, Parent Volunteer of the Year from the day Frodo had begun his education, beamed at her. “They’re all good kids, Galadriel. They’re going to do just fine.”

“That’s not the point,” Gandalf protested. “It’s supposed to be difficult. It’s supposed to give them a real sense of the risks involved. It’s supposed to teach them the dangers of being unprepared.” He blew a casual smoke ring. “Do you really want to face the horrors of letting them loose with no training?”

“You’ve always been an advocate of teaching by experience, old friend,” Galadriel said, a hint of steel slipping into her voice. “But you can’t extend the project for four years. They graduate next year.” She pulled a folder from the pile on her desk. “And taking into consideration Samwise’s reaction to the last module, thanks to your graphics, we’ve decided to limit this to a two week period, starting today.” She raised one delicate eyebrow. “Any objections?”

“They won’t have had any time to prepare,” Bilbo said, concern filling his face. “It’s a little unfair, don’t you think?”

“Nonsense,” Gandalf boomed. “Who is ever prepared for this? It will teach them to think on their feet.”

The headmistress handed another folder to Bilbo. “These are the basic information packets we used the last time,” she told him. He opened the folder and flipped through the pages. The he raised his eyes to the elf.

“I’ll take care of these,” he told her. “Some of the information looks a little outdated.”

“That’s fine,” she nodded. “It’s been a while since we ran this particular project.” She fixed her eyes on the wizard. “I hope you’re not planning anything too exotic for the students.”

“Me?” Gandalf sputtered, choking a bit. “Not at all! Just a bit of realism. That’s the heart of every learning exercise.”

Galadriel narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.

“I’d like to give them my cell number as well,” Bilbo said, making notes on the folder. “Just in case, you understand.”

“You mean there’s a child in this school who doesn’t already have it?” Galadriel teased gently. Then she rose from her seat, signaling the end of the meeting. “Good luck, gentlemen.”

Monday

The fifteen students in Mr Grey’s Health and Family Studies class filed into the room for the last period of the day. There was the usual banter as they settled down, mainly consisting of some light teasing of Sam, for although none of them had had the reaction to the last unit that he had, with hyperventilating and eventual passing out on the floor, they all felt his pain. Pippin had immortalized the incident in song, and it was now making the rounds. Sam settled into his usual seat between Rosie and Frodo and pulled out his notebook, (a new one, after the fiasco with the vomiting) and grinned as Aragorn ruffled his hair affectionately.

Legolas and Gimli, deep in conversation on the best way to escape the latest curfew placed on them by their increasingly frantic fathers, sat in their place by the window. Boromir and Faramir arrived at the same time as Eowyn and Eomer and Faramir gallantly tried to assist Eowyn with the large bag of hockey equipment she carried. She ignored him, as usual, and dropped the bag, sat at her desk and pulled out her daytimer, adding the extra practice the team captain had just informed her of. Eomer shook his head and took a seat by Aragorn, asking him about his weekend, Boromir joining them.  Kili came in and was instantly asked about his brother, Fili, out of school due to a serious injury on the ski slopes, and finally Sigrid rushed in, trailed by Arwen, who was talking animatedly about a new pair of boots she’d just ordered at lunch. Sigrid blew her hair up out of her eyes, and went to sit beside Kili, since she was dating Fili and the pair of them were doing their best to keep him feeling involved in what was happening at school until the plaster came off. Arwen made her way to the empty seat beside Aragorn and gave him a brilliant smile.

Gandalf strode into the room, laying a pile of folders onto the desk and turned to face his class. He smiled beatifically at them, causing Sam to cringe just a little, since it was the same smile that had introduced the last unit.

“Since we’ve spent the last four weeks drumming the idea of safe sex into your brains,” he began, with a glance at Sam, who went a little wild eyed, “our next unit, and your major grading project will be the results of what happens if you should happen to forget about it. Merry, pass Sam the waste basket.” He turned and wrote on the board, “SIMULATED CHILD REARING”

“Oh, Valar, it’s the flour babies!” Rosie said, a trace of glee in her voice. “My cousins were in the last class that did this!”

“Yes, Rosie,” Gandalf said, continuing to write. “And they all passed with flying colors, as I would expect of hobbits from your family.”

“What’s a flour baby?” Faramir asked, shifting in his seat nervously.

“You will be given a flour sack, specially spelled to mimic an infant’s behavior,” Gandalf said, turning around. “Your task is to care for this flour sack as though it were a real infant.”

“They say back in the old days they used real babies,” Sigird said, a trace of awe in her whisper.

“Urban myth.” Gandalf told her firmly. “Although some parents were willing for a few days of peace and quiet, the students were all, well, nervous breakdown doesn’t seem to cover it.”

“It’s a flour sack,” Boromir said, leaning back in his chair. “How hard can it be?”

A discreet knock on the door interrupted Gandalf’s glare and he opened the door. Bilbo, pushing a wheelbarrow covered with a blanket, maneuvered his way to the desk.

“Here’s the answer now,” Gandalf said. “Thank you, Bilbo.”

“Isn’t this exciting?” Bilbo asked the class, bouncing slightly on his large, hairy toes. “Such opportunities for learning and having fun at the same time!”

“Ahem!” Gandalf barked into his hand. Bilbo ignored him and began sorting his materials onto the desk. Gandalf shook his head and continued with his lecture. “Parenthood is a great responsibility and a lot of work. This project is to instill some of just how hard that is upon you.”

“And to give you a chance to discover how creative and resourceful you can be,” Bilbo interrupted again. Gandalf turned to stare at him for a microsecond.

“Now, in the spirit of the family part of the class, we're going to divide into couples,” Gandalf went on, turning to face the kids again. Eleven male heads swiveled around to stare at the four girls in the class.

“Don't blame me,” Mr Grey said, raising a hand to stave off the protests. “I'm not responsible for the disproportionate number of females in this school. Take it up with the founder. Anyway, think of it as co-parenting. You have two minutes, go.” He turned back to the board and began writing.

Arwen locked eyes with Aragorn, a glimmer of something more than excitement in the project showing on her face. He sighed. This was definitely going to cut into his free time with the guys.

Rosie looked around with a smile, and although Merry, Pip and even Frodo and Boromir were giving her encouraging waves, her gaze settled on Sam, who blushed. She patted his arm soothingly.

“Oh, hell no,” Eowyn said, looking up from her schedule. “I don't have time for this. We're getting ready for regionals with the hockey team, and I've got karate three times a week as well as student council. I'm barely keeping up as it is.” She looked at her brother for a moment, shaking her head at him as he grinned at her, then she shrugged. “Faramir, you can be the stay at home mom, right?” She turned to the quiet boy beside her. He smiled. “No problem with that infringing on your masculinity?”

“I’d really enjoy doing the project with you, Eowyn,” he told her. “I think we can work something out.”

“Mr Grey?” Eomer called, raising his hand. “Since there's an odd number, I'd like to be a single father. In the spirit of modern parenting and all.”

“That's fine, Eomer,” Gandalf said, continuing his scratching on the board.

Merry and Pippin winked at each other while Frodo and Boromir eyed each other suspiciously.

“Good,” said Gandalf, turning back to face the class. “Boromir, Frodo, you can use this as an exercise in getting over your issues together. Think of it as part of your counseling sessions.”

“Sigrid can’t have a child with her boyfriend’s brother,” Boromir pointed out desperately. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“Sigrid can do whatever she damn well pleases, Boromir,” Eowyn said threateningly. “Fili’s not going to be in the body cast forever, you know.”

“I saw a movie once where a couple couldn’t have a child and the brother was the sperm donor for the IVF,” Arwen said, pulling out her phone. “I cried through the whole thing. I can look it up.”

“They had a program on TV where a chippie slept with a pair of twins and they were trying to figure out who the daddy was,” Merry added helpfully. “There was a lot of chair throwing.”

“Just what are you implying, Merry,” Sigrid asked, her voice dark, even as Rosie gave the hobbit’s curls a hard tug.

“Nothing, nothing,” Merry replied with a yip.

“Merry, apologize to Sigrid right now, Rosie, hands to yourself, please,” Bilbo said calmly. “Sigrid, Kili, I assume you will be working together on this?” he asked, making notes on a clipboard.

Kili and Sigrid nodded at each other. “Fili will be fine with it.” Kili said. Boromir groaned.

“Sigrid, Kili and Fili can work out the details amongst themselves.” Gandalf said. “Legolas,” the elf's head whipped up from where he was scribbling on the desk. “I trust you and Gimli won't try and turn this into another contest?”

Gimli smirked at his best friend, rival and nemesis. The elf shook his head, went back to copying the notes from the board.

“As you can see,” Gandalf continued, “the parameters of the project are on the board. I'm going to go over them for those of you who don't seem to think you need to take notes.” He drew his brows together and glared at Boromir and Aragorn. They sighed and picked up their pens.

'You will be assigned flour bags. These are the approximate weight of a newborn. Each one has a specific weight, that only I know and they have been spelled to record any inappropriate behaviors. Bilbo, if you would demonstrate?”

“I really don't think any of the kids would...” Bilbo began, a little bit of antagonism creeping into his voice.

Gandalf sighed and pulled one of the sacks from the barrow. He gave it a firm shake, and the sack immediately emitted an earsplitting shriek. “Do not shake the baby, you will give it brain damage. It faces enough challenges going through life as a flour sack. Try not to make it worse.” He waved a hand and the noise stopped, to Rosie's relief. She was half out of her chair, her instincts, honed by living with hordes of siblings kicking in.

“You're going to teach us the hand wave, right?” Boromir asked, looking worried.

“I am not,” Gandalf said firmly. “And you will be the one to explain to your father why your flour is screaming in the middle of the night, Boromir. Now, the flour will also yell when it is hungry, needs to be changed or is bored or scared.”

“What scares flour?” Pippin asked, writing industriously.

“Having a Took for a father.” Gandalf told him. “When the child is upset, you will need to discern the child’s need and take care of it.”

“How?” Arwen asked, pulling her eyes from Aragorn.

“That's for you to discover. These are babies, not cell phones. They don't come with manuals.”

“I did do up some pamphlets for you,” Bilbo added, waving some brightly colored pages. “Along with bottles, nappies, things like that.“ He caught the look Gandalf gave him and faced the tall man down. “It's only some basic necessities, Gandalf, you needn't look at me like that.”

“Do they do anything fun?” Eomer asked.

“Oh, yes!” Bilbo told him with a wide grin. He took the sack from Gandalf and tickled it. Fifteen pairs of eyes stared at him in horror, then with glee as the sack began to giggle. Then Bilbo shifted the sack, cuddling it, and a contented cooing emanated from it. Bilbo couldn’t resist one last tickle.

“Don't overdo it,” Gandalf warned, as the sack began to wail. “Overstimulated,” he said, shaking his head at Bilbo, and waving his hand. “Now, you will each come up, get your child, your supplies, parenting logs and baby books. By the end of the class the child will have a name and you will be totally responsible for it for two weeks.”

“Baby book?” Boromir protested. “It's not going to do anything but yell and be carried about.”

“Oh, no, Boromir, my boy,” Bilbo broke in. “This is the most fun part of the project. Decorate your baby. Give it a face and a personality. Write down things you do with it, take it to the park, take pictures of it. Enjoy it! They can be a lot of fun.”

“Yes,” Gandalf drawled, smiling at the hobbit. “Let's get started. Arwen, Aragorn, come on up. Bilbo, if you would do the honors?”

Beaming, Bilbo held out a ceramic bowl with slips of paper. Arwen, smiling with delight, reached in and pulled one out. She handed it to Bilbo, who wrote down the number on his clipboard.

“Congratulations, it's a boy!” he told them. Gandalf selected a bag and handed it to Aragorn, who handled it as if was a grenade with the pin removed.

“He's wonderful!” Arwen gushed. “We should name him after my father,” she told Aragorn.

“Take your seats and decide.” Gandalf shooed them from the desk. “Rosie and Sam.”

Sam blushed a bit as Rosie pulled out a slip.

“Oh, my!” Bilbo told her. “You've hit the jackpot. Triplets.”

“What?” Sam squeaked.

Rosie shrugged. “Hobbits have big families anyway,” she said. “Are they healthy?”

“That’s the spirit!” Bilbo cheered. “Yes, just a little smaller than usual. That's perfectly normal. Two girls and a boy.”

Sam staggered for a second as he took the girl sacks and Rosie cradled the boy.

“Come on, Sam, we need to mark them right away so we don't get them mixed up.” Rosie's eyes were bright with excitement.

“Eomer,” Gandalf called.

He stood with purpose, strode to the desk and unhesitatingly pulled a slip of paper from the bowl.

“It's a boy!” Bilbo told him.

“Can I invent a tragic back-story about his mother?” Eomer asked, taking the sack Gandalf handed him.

“You don't have to,” Bilbo said, his face falling as he checked his chart. “He was born addicted to meth.” He handed Eomer a sheaf of paper. “My dear boy, I'm so sorry.”

Eomer reeled for a moment, then squared his shoulders. “He's going to be fine!” he said, his voice just a little too loud. “He's my son. Come on, Sparky,” he hefted the bag closer to his chest. The other kids applauded.

Eowyn looked up. “You can't call your crack baby Sparky,” she told him, horrified. “It's in bad taste.”

“He's my son,” Eomer told her firmly. “I'll call him what I like, thank you.”

“Merry, Pippin,” Gandalf called. With a grin and a shrug, Merry thrust his hand in the bowl and pulled out a slip.

“A healthy boy,” Bilbo told them. They high fived each other.

“And may the Valar have mercy on the poor thing,” Gandalf muttered, handing over the bag.

Gimli and Legolas were next and were given a healthy baby girl.

“A girl?” Gimli said, a slight frown on his face.

“What's wrong with a girl?” Legolas asked, taking the bag.

“I don't know anything about raising girls.” Gimli said.

“Why doesn't that surprise me?” Legolas asked, raising a brow. “She's a little young to be projecting gender stereotypes on, isn't she?”

“Just look after her,” Bilbo warned, as the muttering pair went back to their desks. “Eowyn, Faramir, you're next.”

Eowyn sighed and pulled out their slip. She handed it to the hobbit.

“Twins!” Bilbo crowed. “Healthy boys.”

“Is daycare an option?” Eowyn asked.

“Eowyn,” Gandalf fixed her with a stare. “You will do your part with these babies. If Faramir has to do it all, you will get a zero, and I will see to it that you are disqualified from the hockey team.”

“Fine,” Eowyn sighed. “But between Fric and Frac here and Sparky the Crack Baby, Uncle T's going to go spare.”

“Don't call him that,” Frodo piped up. “It's not his fault his mom was a junkie.”

“It means Eomer has terrible taste in women,” Eowyn retorted.

Gandalf made a mental note to call Theoden later.

Sigrid and Kili nodded at each other as they reached the desk. Sigrid blew her hair from her eyes again and handed the slip to Bilbo.

“One happy, healthy boy,” he told them, handing Kili the flour sack.

“You look disappointed, Kili,” Sigrid said, taking the forms from Bilbo.

“I was kind of hoping for a girl,” he admitted.

“Dwarves almost always throw boys,” she told him understandingly.

“Yes, but Gimli got a girl,” Kili pointed out as they made their way back to their seats, where Kili sat beside his cousin.

“That’s only because he’s married to an elf,” Sigrid told him, nodding at the redhead.

“Hey!” Gimli protested.

“It’s a mutually beneficial child rearing arrangement,” Legolas told her. “We’re working out the custody right now.”

“You’re always together anyway,” Sigrid said. “It’s not like it matters.”

Boromir and Frodo looked at each other uncomfortably as they reached the desk. Frodo pulled the slip and handed it to his uncle.

“Oh, a precious little girl!” Bilbo gushed, since Frodo was his nephew after all. “She's premature though.” He handed Boromir some paperwork.

“Premature?” Boromir asked, drawing down his brows.

“Very common in teen pregnancies,” Gandalf said, making notes.

“Why didn't you take better care of yourself?” Boromir rounded on Frodo.

“Me?” Frodo flared up. “Why am I her mother? You're always drinking and running around with your friends. Maybe it was you!”

“Just take Precious there and work out your issues on your own time,” Eowyn said, looking up from the desk where she and Faramir were busy with markers making sure their bags didn't get mixed up. “Some of us have schedules to coordinate.”

By the end of class, Rosie and Sam had decided on Lilac, Lavender and Leodegar for the triplets, Arwen had insisted on Elrond Jr, Merry and Pippin declared that any child of theirs was so awesome that he could only be called Bullroarer, Legolas and Gimli compromised on Mithril. Sigrid and Kili had chosen Vili, subject to Fili’s approval, Eomer was humming to Sparky, and Eowyn and Faramir had agreed on Bob and Doug. Frodo and Boromir, having spent the class drawing a face on their bag and arguing about who's fault it was that she was premature, had no name, so Eowyn settled it for them.

“Just call it Precious and be done.” she said. “I'm not staying late because you two can't agree on anything."


	2. Monday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which - Bilbo begins to deal with some of the fallout of the project. And what has happened to Gandalf?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that I must ask for a bit of a handwave, my dear readers. Bilbo is his Hobbit age in this. Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments, it really means a lot to know people are reading and enjoying. If I make mistakes, please feel free to point them out.

Monday Night

In the comfort and privacy of his own kitchen, Bilbo clutched his phone a little tighter and rolled his eyes in exasperation. The languid and cultured tones on the other end could only belong to one parent. Not even Elrond in full spate could out-elf Legolas’ father. As soon as Thranduil stopped for breath, Bilbo broke in.

“Did you even _read_ the literature for the project that I sent home with them, Thranduil?” Bilbo immediately regretted the question as it allowed Thranduil a chance to start up again. Bilbo’s nose twitched and he headed over to the stove to check on the meal he was making for Frodo. He made calming, assenting noises at Thranduil as he expertly flipped the trout and tasted the risotto. The sound of his nephew’s voice, busy with his own phone argument, came echoing down the hall.

“I don’t think glaring at a flour sack until it quietens down is quite proper behaviour, Thranduil, do you? No, I don’t think it will count against their mark. I haven’t got a clue how Gandalf does the hand wave thing. Why don’t you call him and ask?” The hobbit pulled asparagus out of the sink and began snapping the stems in frustration. Bilbo Baggins, friend of every child in the school, had endless patience and compassion for his young charges. Their parents, on the other hand, could and did drive him batty and he freely admitted it.

“Trouble with his phone? That doesn’t sound like Gandalf. No, they were told explicitly not to take the flour sack on the motorcycle, and they are allowed a half hour per day with a sitter. You can charge them for it.” Frodo came storming into the kitchen, and Bilbo waved him towards the stove. “Check the fish,” he mouthed silently, since Thranduil was off once again.

“Well, you did say you wanted them home more nights,” Bilbo interrupted Thranduil. He stopped his snapping as he caught a glimpse through the round kitchen window of the black BMW pulling up into the drive.

“Yes, Thranduil, I understand. I don’t know why they needed a craft store either. You’re absolutely right, Babies’R’Us would have been a much better choice. No, don’t hire a nanny, I’m sure they’ll be back in time. Look, I’ve got to go, Thorin’s just rolled up.” He paused, and Frodo looked at him quizzically. “The fish,” Bilbo mouthed at his nephew again, waving his free hand. “I can promise you a meeting by the end of the week. Yes, I’ll be in touch. Ta!” He clicked the phone off.

“How many is that now,” Frodo asked, rescuing the fish and taking plates down.

“Four. Theoden, Denethor, Elrond, and now here’s Thorin, and oh, look, he’s brought Bard!”

The dwarf gave a perfunctory knock and opened the door, calling out “Bilbo?”

“Be right there, Thorin, Bard. Can I get you a drink?” he asked, throwing the asparagus into the steamer and wiping his hands, as Thorin fell into his favorite armchair and Bard leaned menacingly against the mantlepiece. Bilbo joined them, looking weary.

“You can explain, Master Baggins,” Bard said, his voice low, “why my daughter is sitting with Fili and Kili right now, working out which of them is the father of her flour sack!”

“Oh, my!” Bilbo exclaimed, looking startled. “You do realize that Fili is not technically involved in the project?”

“His inheritance is,” Thorin grumbled, with an undertone of laughter. “He’s being all noble and weepy one moment, giving them his blessing, as it were, then he starts demanding that the child be recognized as his.” A brief grin flashed across his face. “I suspect it’s the pain killers, mostly. They make him a bit goofy sometimes.”

Bilbo and Bard smiled at each other. “The kids don’t say goofy anymore, Thorin,” Bilbo pointed out.

“The point is, the boy doesn’t need the stress of this on top of everything else,” Bard said. “Can’t you just make some kind of ruling on this Bilbo? As you said, Fili isn’t really part of the project.”

“But they want him to feel like he is,” Thorin put in. “He gets so bored, just lying there in traction. Sigrid has been wonderful during all this, Bard.”

“She doesn’t need the stress either,” Bard grumbled.

“Gandalf already gave his permission for them to work it out.” Bilbo said, twitching his nose. “And no one seems to be able to contact him this evening. His phone is down, and he’s not answering emails or texts.”

“It was Arwen and that stupid movie that started it all,” Frodo said, bringing in the tea tray and settling it on the low table. “She was telling Sigrid all about it while we were on the bus. Gimli tried to tell her it was ludicrous, not romantic at all, but you know Arwen. I mean, she would not shut up. I don’t think Sigrid was buying it though,” he told Bard. “She’s got sense, your Sigrid.”

“Why was Gimli on the bus?” Thorin asked.

“Your cousin had a brilliant plan to put his flour sack into his helmet and carry it home on the back of the bike,” Bilbo said to Thorin, his eye twitching. “I just caught him before Eowyn descended on me. So Legolas took the bike home and Gimli met him at Thranduil’s place.” He sighed. “I’m going to put together a parents meeting as quickly as I can, since obviously none of you talk to your children before descending on me.”

“Where’s your kid then, Frodo?” Thorin asked.

“Boromir has her,” Frodo said, his brows drawing down. “He insisted, for the first night. He doesn’t think I can handle it.”

Bard whistled. “And I thought we had problems,” he grinned at Thorin.

Bilbo’s cell rang again. He smiled as he noticed the contact name and answered it. “Hello? Rosie? Rosie, calm down, dear, I can’t make out...he what?” A wide grin split his face. “You did try to...oh no!” The grin was quickly replaced with a look of concern. “Is he there now? No? He’s doing what? Yes, Rosie, I’m on my way. Now, be a dear, call Merry and Pip and tell them to bring Bullroarer over with them. Yes, I’m sure it will be fine.”

Bilbo slipped his phone back into his pocket and reached for his jacket. “Frodo, you go have your dinner. Don’t worry about saving me any. Try not to call Boromir more than five times while I’m gone.” His nephew frowned, but headed back to the kitchen.

“Well, come on,” Bilbo said, jerking his head at Thorin. “You and Bard can drive me over to the Gamgee place. There’s a bit of a ruckus. Once that's settled, we’ll discuss what to do with your kids on the way to drop Bard off. And then you’re taking me for dinner, Thorin. Somewhere nice, with a good wine selection!”


	3. Tuesday Afternoon - School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which - Hobbits will be hobbits, the babies begin to get personalities and Bilbo begins to get the feeling Gandalf isn't taking this seriously at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the kudos! Wow, it feels great to know you guys like it!

Tuesday

Eomer, Legolas and Gimli were already seated when Gandalf and Bilbo entered the classroom. Eomer was speaking softly as Sparky was swaddled within an inch of his life and tucked inside a baby sling next to Eomer's chest. Legolas had an elaborate scrapbook out in front of him, inscribing Mithril’s name in his elegant calligraphy. The toe of his booted foot absently rocked the car seat she was evidently sleeping in, since she was emitting tiny dwarven snores.

“Mr Bilbo?” Gimli called softly to him, obviously mindful of the sleeping sacks. Gimli had pulled out his jewelry kit and was working on a tiny garment made of minuscule chain mail links. 

“What are you doing, Gimli?” Bilbo asked, as the dwarf waved him over.

“Kitting. She needs appropriate outfitting, our Mithril. There was a program on YouTube, how to do a whole traditional dwarven layette.”

“Lovely,” Bilbo murmured. He looked down at the sleeping flour sack. The dwarf/elf baby was now sporting a full head of honey colored hair, complexly braided, and a silky red beard. 

“That explains the craft store,” he said, his lips twitching in a smile.

“Sorry about Dad,” Legolas said, offhandedly. “You know how he gets. But we need you for something important if you wouldn’t mind.” He held out a coin. “Would you flip for us? We’ve decided your an impartial party.”

“Fine,” Bilbo said. “Have you already called?”

They nodded, and Bilbo flipped the silver disk expertly, revealing the heads side. Gimli broke out in a wide grin while Legolas shrugged and picked up his pen again. 

“We couldn’t decide on her last name.” Gimli said. “Since I won the toss, it’s Gloinson-Thranduilion.” As Legolas inscribed the name in the book, Gimli went back to his project. Bilbo smiled at them, and then lay a hand on Eomer's shoulder

“How is he?” Bilbo asked, his voice soft and filled with concern. Eomer’s call while he was at the restaurant with Thorin was one he hadn’t minded at all. Eomer had asked his questions, taking time to make notes of the answers, and made Bilbo very proud of the boy.

“Sparky had a bit of a rough night,” Eomer admitted. “I found a support group online, explained what I was doing and asked for some suggestions. The parents there were very helpful.”

Bilbo gave the teen a squeeze on the shoulder, and made a mental note to bring Eomer's favorite cupcakes to class the next day.

Arwen and Aragorn came in, Arwen pushing an expensive stroller, Elrond Jr riding proudly atop it, while Aragorn was loaded down with a diaper bag, his backpack, Arwen's backpack, and her purse. He dropped the luggage with a clang and fell into his seat with a look of exhaustion. 

Faramir and Eowyn followed a few seconds later, dark circles under Faramir's eyes and Eowyn noticeably irritated. Her face softened a bit when she caught sight of her brother and eased into her seat with her flour sack.

Merry, Pip, Sam and Rosie came in close on their heels. Since Pip was carrying Bullroarer, Merry had taken Lilac from Rosie in a sign of hobbit solidarity. 

Pip had Bullroarer tucked into a chest carrier. The flour sack was making disgruntled noises. Pip pulled him out and gave him a tickle. The baby settled right down. The rest of the teens stared at the oversized knitted feet, complete with curly yarn hair, attached to the sack.

“Aunt Esmeralda,” Pip shrugged, noticing the stares. “Looks good, doesn't he?”

“Yes, but the feet don't fit into the carrier properly,” Merry added, patting down the reddish knitted ringlets springing from Bulroarer’s head. “Makes him uncomfortable. We'll have to come up with something else.”

“Aunt Esme invited all of you to come round this afternoon and have legs and arms attached to your babies.” Pip continued. “She says it looks unnatural for them to have faces and such without the other.”

There was a murmur of assent from the other kids as Sigrid and Kili came in, Vili on Sigrid’s hip. 

“Hey, Vili, who’s your daddy?” Merry called.

“Quit it, Merry,” Eowyn snapped, beginning to brandish Bob like her hockey stick. She was only stopped by Faramir’s calm hand on her arm. “It’s none of your business.” she said, her voice dropping to a low hiss out of respect for the flour sacks.

“The curiosity is killing us,” Pip admitted.

“Never mind them, Sig, you come sit over here with me.” Eowyn said encouragingly. “Pip’s Auntie is going to make us all legs and arms after school, isn’t that great!”

The class heard Boromir and Frodo before they saw them, the argument carrying down the hall and an indistinct whining coming from Precious.

“Alright, everyone, settle down,” Gandalf said, as Bilbo shot a worried look at Frodo. Boromir took Precious and gently settled her while Frodo flopped in his seat, shooting angry looks at Boromir.

“Well, then, how was your first night as parents,” Gandalf asked, looking over the group.

“Mr Grey, sir,” Sam piped up wearily, “the next time you assign something like this, could you please send a note home or call the folks or something, anything!” 

Bilbo's nose twitched as he sat behind Gandalf's desk. “There was a bit of confusion as I told you earlier,” he said, the tiniest hint of reproach still in his voice. “The Gaffer didn't quite understand the assignment, heard that Sam and Rosie had babies, and...”

“He clipped me round the ear before Mr Bilbo could get there and explain things.” Sam said, rubbing the abused ear. “He was planning the wedding and lining me up a job with him to 'take care of my responsibilities’!”

“Part of the project is the reaction of your families.” Gandalf said, his bright blue eyes twinkling. He looked over at Bilbo. “I trust the Gaffer has been pacified?”

Bilbo nodded. “Once we got Merry and Pip over, and explained it all, he did settle down.”

“He was hilarious,” Merry added, cuddling Lilac. “He went into one of his famous rants about modern foolishness, and in his day you didn't have to practice being parents, you just went and did it.”

“He was also blaming the entire thing on Sam,” Pip said, shifting Bullroarer to a more comfortable position. “He said Rosie wasn't that kind of girl.”

“And,” Rosie put in, her voice full of mirth, “he was inordinately proud of Sam for fathering triplets.”

Sam groaned and looked down at Leodegar, shaking his head.

“So the hobbits are acting like hobbits,” Gandalf said, smiling. “Good! Arwen,” he shifted his bright gaze to her. “How did it go with you and Aragorn?”

“Daddy is being so supportive!” Arwen gushed. “He sent me to the mall to get everything we needed, and is letting Aragorn stay with us during the project.”

There were hoots from Gimli, Legolas and Eomer. Aragorn rolled his eyes up.

“It's not like that,” Aragorn said wearily. “I'm sleeping on a collapsible cot in the garage. And he told me if this was real instead of a school project, Arwen would be joining Eomer in the single parent club.” He raised a brow suggestively. “They'd never find the body,” is how he put it.

“Harsh,” Boromir said, wincing. “Doesn’t he have any faith in your parenting skills?”

“Oh, no, Aragorn's a great dad.” Arwen interjected, sticking up for him. “He got up with Elrond Jr all night. And fed him so I could get my hair done this morning.”

“You're keeping the baby in the garage with Aragorn?” Legolas protested. “That can't be good for him.”

“No, the baby has a room of his own.” Aragorn told them. “Lovely nursery. Arwen set it all up last night. Even has matching little curtains. Elrond's butler had to pick her up in the Hummer with all the stuff.” Aragorn shook his head. “There's a baby monitor,” he explained. “Elrond is only disappointed it doesn't come with a tazer attachment.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Arwen scolded him, giving him a playful swat on the shoulder. 

“Right,” Bilbo said, concern coloring his eyes, deciding to try and move up his parents meeting. “Eowyn, my dear, how was your night?”

She huffed, then almost apologetically petted her flour sack. “Faramir and I decided that we would each take one of the kids. But Bob sent up such a howling...”

“You had Doug,” Faramir corrected patiently.

“Whatever,” Eowyn continued. “We had to get them back together. So Uncle T let me drive the baby back over to Faramir and we got them settled, and I went back to finish that essay for history. I'm taking them tonight.”

“Dad's not very happy with you, Mr Grey,” Boromir put in. “He says if Faramir has to have twins, I should have gotten a normal baby.”

“We have a normal baby,” Frodo exploded. “She's just has some special needs.”

“You coddling her every second isn't going to help!” Boromir retorted.

“She needs cuddling to develop properly!” Frodo fumed. “Did you even read the pamphlets?”

“Yes, and you treating her like she's going to break every second isn't going to help her in later life,” Boromir said through gritted teeth. A wail came up from the car seat at Legolas’ feet. He sighed and lifted out Mithril.

“Stop upsetting my baby,” Gimli growled. “She needs her rest!”

“Mithril is looking very pretty,” Bilbo said desperately, trying to break the tension in the room.

“Pretty?” Gimli exploded, putting his chain mail down. “She looks like a proper dwarf/elf baby.”

“Elf/dwarf baby,” Legolas put in, rocking the flour sack.

“Lovely hair,” Arwen said, nodding.

“I did the hair, Gimli did the beard. Took most of the night, embroidery floss attached with tiny crochet hooks.” Legolas told her. “Yours is still distressingly bald.”

“He's got a cap,” Arwen pointed out. “It matches his bunting bag and blanket set for the stroller.”

“Poor little thing,” Gimli said, shaking his head. 

“Gimli, would you show Kili and me how to do the beard? I think it would look great on little Vili.” Sigrid asked, coming over to inspect the flour sack in Legolas’ arms, handing Vili to Kili.

“We could help,” Legolas told her. “Since they’re cousins.”

“What colors?” Pip asked brightly. “Since he’s got grey eyes like Sig, he should get his dad’s hair.”

“Y’know, if you added just a little blue to his beautiful eyes, and gave him black hair, he’d look just like your Uncle Thorin, Kili,” Eowyn said, smiling sweetly at Pippin, who took the hint. 

“Eomer?” Bilbo was flailing now.

“We had a rough night,” Eomer said honestly. “But some of the suggestions I got from the support group really helped. And Sparky's going to need to see some specialists, Mr Grey. It's going to cut into my college fund, but I hope you can recommend someone.”

“Eomer, he's a flour sack.” Eowyn pointed out, shaking her head. “He's not going to get better. Just keep him alive for a couple weeks.”

“Eomer,” Gandalf said, interrupting the argument between the siblings before it could start, “if you'll stay for a bit after class, we'll talk about specialists. I think in the circumstances, Galadriel and I can stand in for your specialists.”

Eomer nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “I really do want the best for Sparky.”


	4. Tuesday Evening - Bag End and Brandybuck Hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which - Thorin is concerned, Frodo takes charge, ladies knit and there is lots of gossip, Bullroarer escapes death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay! I hope it was worth the wait. And thanks again for all the comments, encouragement and kudos!

**Tuesday Evening - Bag End**

Bilbo had just checked his watch after putting the cupcakes into the oven when he heard the familiar bang on his door.

“Bilbo?” Thorin called. “Where are you?”

“In the kitchen, come on in,” Bilbo called back. “Tea?”

“Thanks,” Thorin said, entering and dropping his jacket over the back of a kitchen chair.

“You haven’t brought anyone else, have you?” Bilbo asked, getting the kettle on.

“Just me,” Thorin grinned at the hobbit. “I have to pick up the kids down the hill in a bit and thought I’d just pop by.”

“Yes,” Bilbo said animatedly, “there’s quite the queue down there. Esmeralda and Eglantine have corralled some of the other ladies and they’re knitting limbs like there’s no tomorrow.” He smiled, a twinkle in his hazel eyes that delighted Thorin. “It’s nice to see them all getting into the spirit of things.”

“And the Gaffer won’t pull Sam out of school?” Thorin asked, getting the cups down while Bilbo fussed with the biscuit tin.

Bilbo laughed, and Thorin relaxed. He had been more worried than he’d admitted the night before, concerned about the strain of this project on the hobbit. He, more than anyone, knew how much Bilbo cared about the kids in his charge.

“I’m getting all the parents together tomorrow night,” Bilbo told him. “It was the soonest I could manage, with everyone’s schedules. Would you mind helping me move some chairs and tables to the back garden beforehand, so we can fit everyone?”

“You could have it at my place,” Thorin offered, dropping into his chair. “I’ve got that big meeting room off my office. It wouldn’t take much to get a few drinks in. I could have the cakes catered from that little place you like, the one with the chocolate croissants.”

Bilbo’s eyes softened. “Thorin, you don’t have to...” he began.

Thorin snorted. “I don’t _have_ to do anything. I want to. You’ll be stressed enough, trying to keep all the egos in line.” He held up a hand to forestall Bilbo’s argument. “Since I dropped you off on Sunday night, you seem to have acquired, what, ten honorary grandnephews and nieces?”

“Eleven,” Bilbo corrected automatically. Then he laughed. “Yes, I guess it would take it’s toll. We’ll have to arrange a ride for Mrs Cotton and the Gaffer,” Bilbo mused, pouring the tea. “Probably Esmeralda and Eglantine as well, if there’s going to be drinks. I really should make something a little heavier than cake to sop up the booze or it’s going to end up like the 9th grade play committee.”  He sat down beside the dwarf, automatically handing over the sugar bowl.

Thorin shuddered at the memory. “I’ll have Bombur do up a few casseroles and meat pies as well. That should take the edge off. Fili can’t possibly eat all the food he’s been bringing over. Along with all the bits you’ve sent.”

Bilbo reached out across the table and took the dwarf’s hand, running his thumb absently over Thorin’s knuckles. “I just worry about the dear boy. It’s so hard for him, being laid up like this, and him always such an active lad.”

“I did warn him about the Ravenhill slope, but he started down before I could stop him.” Thorin sighed. “Impulsive, that’s always been Kili’s fault, not Fili’s.”

“He was trying to impress you, my dear,” Bilbo told him. “You’re opinion is very important to him. I’m just very grateful the damage wasn’t worse.”

“Oh, he’s got the Durin skull, there’s no doubt about that.” Thorin said wryly.

“You’re all mad anyway, sliding down snow on little bits of wood!” Bilbo grinned. “When there was such a nice lunch provided, too.”

Thorin laughed outright, throwing his head back. “Don’t think I didn’t see you down at the sledding hill with the wee ones, Bilbo! And your toes were conspicuously chilly for someone who’d spent the day curled up in front of the fire with a good book!”

The door banged and an uncharacteristic crooning was heard in the hall. “Frodo?” Bilbo called.

“Right here, Uncle,” Frodo said, coming in, cradling the flour sack in his arms. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Very pretty,” Thorin nodded, noting the hobbit feet on the sack. The curly black hair on her toes was matched by springy long ringlets, topped with a pretty pink headband adorned with a large daisy.

“How are things down there?” Thorin asked, looking at his watch.

“You’ve still got some time, Thorin,” Frodo said, not taking his eyes from the flour sack. “Pip’s Nan had to do Arwen’s baby first, since Arwen made some appointment downtown for them and the butler was coming to pick her and Aragorn up. It’s a bit of a madhouse really. Sig and Kili offered to go last.”

“I would have thought you’d have volunteered, Frodo,” Bilbo said, “since you live the closest.”

“I did, but there was some mix up about the feet,” Frodo protested. “The aunties had got the proportions wrong for the elves and humans. Mrs Cotton was doing up some smaller ones, but there were plenty of hobbit feet to go round. Legolas took Kili to the craft store, while they’re waiting.”

**Meanwhile – at Brandybuck Hall**

“Thank you so much for doing this, Mrs Banks,” Eowyn said, cuddling Bob surreptitiously while Pip’s Nan attached the legs to Doug.

“I’m glad to do it, Eowyn,” Mrs Banks smiled. “You just make sure the hockey team takes us all the way this season!”

“It’s lovely, the way you and the ladies come out to support us,” Eowyn told her.

“Ah, well, your lad there,” Mrs Banks indicated Faramir, hovering over her shoulder as she worked, “always makes sure we have the schedules and his scout troop are on hand to give us a bit of help with the lunch baskets and such.”

“They do?” Eowyn asked, looking with surprise at Faramir, who smiled down affectionately at the old lady.

“Yes,” he said, “and we always check them for octopi now, after that incident at the last finals. A fine example you all set for my boys, Mrs Banks! After all I do to teach them about sportsmanship.”

Mrs Banks shrugged. “Mordor deserved it.”

“Maybe, but it was hell to clean off the ice.” Faramir said.

 

In a quiet corner, Mrs Cotton was working with Sparky. Eomer looked as if every stitch was going into him, not the flour sack, and Rosie took pity on him and held his hand.

“He’s a delicate babe, I see,” Mrs Cotton remarked, her movements gentle in the face of Eomer’s evident distress. “How’s his appetite?”

Eomer shook his head. “Not very good. He eats a little, then fusses for a while.”

Mrs Cotton nodded. “A grazer, then. What you want to do, Eomer lad, is take him out in the garden in the evenings, and get him some night air. That will help. Bundle him up well.”

“Thank you, Mrs Cotton, I’ll try that tonight,” Eomer said, surprising Rosie with the gratitude in his voice.

“Don’t you worry, pet,” Mrs Cotton told him, patting Eomer gently on the arm. “We’ll get your little lad right as rain, you’ll see.”

Esmeralda Brandybuck stopped attaching Mithril’s left leg and watched Gimli, working diligently beside her for a moment, then looked around for her sister in law.

“Eglantine!” she called to Pip’s mother. “Come and see what this clever young man is doing.”

“Dwarf, m’am,” Gimli muttered.

“Of course,” Esmeralda murmured. “Hold it up so she can see it.”

Gimli sighed and put down his tools, lifting the little chain mail garment.

“Isn’t that the most cunning thing you’ve ever seen? Hilda? Peony? Come and look at this!” Esmeralda gushed. “Can you do a cable stitch into it?” she asked Gimli.

“No, m’am,” he told her, sighing, as assorted ladies admired his handiwork.

“It needs a little something,” Eglantine mused. “What did you do with that Bedazzler, Esme?”

 

Sigrid was sitting with Grandmother Brandybuck who fussed over Villi as if he were her own baby. “He does have your eyes, dear,” she remarked to Sigrid, in a ‘you can tell me your secrets’ kind of voice.

“Yes, but dwarf babies eyes do change over time, Mrs Brandybuck,” Sigrid said, looking over at Eowyn with a small smile.

“So he may end up with his father’s beautiful brown ones then?” Grandmother Brandybuck asked, her own eyes twinkling.

“I suspect he’s going to have blue ones,” Sigrid whispered.

“Really now?” Mrs Brandybuck whispered back with glee. “Like Fili’s then?”

“Actually, Fili and Kili think he’s going to have that brilliant blue like their mother and Uncle Thorin.” Sigrid told her, still whispering. Mrs Brandybuck looked very disappointed. Sigrid nudged her gently. “What’s the book look like right now?” she asked, in a voice so soft that only Merry’s grandmother could hear her. Menegilda Brandybuck perked right up.

“Well,” she began, for Sigrid’s ears alone.

 

Bullroarer let out an ungodly shriek at that moment, distracting everyone. To Sam’s horror, Merry and Pip had jury-rigged a bouncy seat from the parlor doorframe, using parts of the baby carrier, bungee cords, and a pillow. It worked, but a little to well, as Bullroarer bounced enough to make him nauseous.

Merry whipped him out of the contraption just as Kili and Legolas returned. The elf shook his head.

“Just be grateful that they can’t really throw up on you,” he told the hobbits.

“Is that going to count against your mark?” Sam asked, swiftly dismantling the bouncy seat.

Pip shrugged. “He really liked it, up until the last minute.”

Faramir came over to them, clicking his phone off. “We’ve got bigger issues to worry about,” he told them. “Frodo just sent a picture of Precious to Boromir. Legolas, can you give me a ride home?”


	5. Wednesday - School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which - Arwen exposes a secret, Boromir and Frodo argue, Mithril is defined and Everyone is Afraid of Gimli's Van.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments! I really am encouraged by how many of you like this!

**Wednesday - School**

Rosie, Sam and the triplets were the first ones in the classroom. One of Rosie's cousins had donated an old fashioned pram she'd found in the back of her shed and Sam had cleaned it up, Rosie adding blankets collected from relatives with small children. All three flour bags were fitted out in matching knitted outfits, light purple for Lavender, pale mauve for Lilac and a deep purple for Leodegar.

Eomer came in with Legolas and Gimli. Mithril was wearing a chain-mail sleeper. As they took their seats, Rosie approached them, handing Eomer a pile of pale blue knitted clothes.

“Mam and I were talking about Sparky,” she told him, compassion in her eyes. “Mam did this up for him last night, it's the softest wool she could find.”

“Thank you, Rosie,” Eomer said, running a hand over the layette. “Please thank your mom, too. His skin is very sensitive sometimes.”

“How did it go last night?” Legolas asked him as Gimli rocked Mithril in his arms, a small chinking sound accompanying each movement.

“A little better, actually. He slept more, but he still had a bit of trouble with his feeding.” Eomer said, pulling the baby sling a little closer to his chest.

“Mithril was up half the night with gas,” Gimli said, unconsciously trying to burp his flour sack. Legolas raised his eyebrow.

“Because you let her gorge like a dwarf. She needs to be burped after each ounce, not after an entire bottle.”

Faramir and Eowyn came in, both carrying a flour sack apiece. Faramir looked like he'd had a decent night's sleep, but Eowyn's temper was up again.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” she was telling Faramir. “They were up and down all night. We’ve got to work something else out. I really need you to watch them the night before hockey practice.” She looked around. “Rosie, you've got no right to look so rested.”

Rosie shrugged. “Sam slept all evening and picked them up at midnight, so I got to sleep from then on.”

“It’s a good thing you two live next door to each other,” Faramir said, smiling.

“Don't they set each other off?” Eowyn complained. “I just got Bob and the bottle, and Doug started yelling to bring down the house.” She shot her brother a dirty look. “Uncle T came in and took him for a bit.”

“That was kind of him,” Sam said, his head drooping a bit.

Eowyn snorted. “He said he didn't want Dougie to wake up Sparky.”

Eomer shrugged. “He likes Sparky.”

“Everyone likes Sparky,” Eowyn said, her voice softening just a touch. 

Boromir and Frodo entered next, Frodo cuddling Precious.

“She’s my daughter too,” Boromir was protesting. “I should have had some say in it!”

Faramir rolled his eyes and sighed. “They’re still at it, I see.”

“Then maybe you should have come with me, instead of leaving it all up to me, as usual!” Frodo shot back at Boromir.

“You don’t want my help, you keep telling me that!” Boromir told him.

They were interrupted by Arwen, pushing Elrond Jr in the super stroller. Aragorn trailed her, looking exhausted, with Sigrid and Kili behind them.

“Man, you look rough,” Legolas told Aragorn.

“S'okay, got a nap at lunch,” Aragorn answered wearily. He took his seat and his head fell on the desk with a thump.

“I made a Tumblr page for Elrond Jr,” Arwen said. “Can I take a picture of all the babies together for it?”

“I don't know,” Gimli said, frowning. “We want to guard her privacy. There's a lot of creeps out there.”

“We'll think about it, Arwen,” Legolas told her.

Arwen took Elrond Jr out of the stroller with just enough flair that his long dark hair floated around him for a second before settling down his back.

“Arwen!” Sigrid said, her eyes wide in shock. “Is that real hair? Like, human hair?”

“Of course not,” Arwen tutted, holding the baby out for inspection. “It’s elf hair.”

“Sweet Eru!” Eowyn cried. “You got the flour sack a weave! And are those...eyelashes?”

“And they’re all mine, baby,” Pip, catching the end of the conversation as he arrived, batted his own at Eowyn. She turned and gave him a dirty look. He held up Bullroarer like a shield.

“Okay, so you’re not talking about me,” Pip said. “What’s...” he turned and saw Elrond Jr. “Argh! Why’s he got spiders round his eyes?”

“It’s really well done, Arwen,” Sigrid interrupted him, running her hand over the hair. “Come feel this, Rosie.”

“Very professional,” Eowyn said, glancing at Legolas, who was looking intently at little Elrond. “Where did you get it done, Arwen?”

Arwen raised a well manicured hand up to her own hair. “My own girl, you know, she’s fantastic.”

“Arwen!” Sigrid giggled. “You’ve got weave?”

Arwen colored slightly. “Of course not!” she exclaimed. “Besides, it’s not that big a deal. Great however many it is granny Luthien used to cheat with her hair.”

“Yeah, Dad mentioned her collection of hairpieces once.” Legolas said absently. “He walked into the room where she kept them all on Styrofoam heads. Scared the crap out of him. But how did you get a wig this small?”

“Baby pageants,” Merry said, coming in quietly. “Nobody ever votes for the bald baby.”

“Ooh, we should have one of those!” Arwen said, her eyes lighting up.

“NO!” Gimli boomed from across the desks, startling several babies. The group broke up to settle them as Gandalf and Bilbo came in, Gandalf laughing at something the hobbit had said.

“What happened?” Bilbo asked, looking at the group with concern.

“Gimli barked, and the only baby not to freak was Mithril.” Merry pointed out.

“She must be getting used to it,” Pip concluded.

Bilbo stopped, and stared at the pram, where the trips were cuddled in together, Sam tucking blankets and arranging pillows.

“Oh, my!” Bilbo exclaimed. “I think that's the one my mother used for me!” he said.

“They don't make 'em like that anymore, Mr Bilbo,” Sam said. “It's still in great shape. Just took a little scouring with some steel wool and a bit of new padding. Not even a nick in the hood.”

“Before we start, Mr Grey, I have something to say, the pram reminded me.” Merry said. “I don’t know what you said to my grandmother yesterday Sigrid, but she had all the family have a whip round in all the mathom rooms and sheds and collected a bunch of baby stuff for anyone who needs it.”

“Oh,” Sigrid said, glancing at Kili, “I just mentioned it would be nice to have an extra crib or something, to have one at each house.”

“Yeah, well,” Merry replied, running a hand over his blond curls, “have you got any idea how many kids there have been in the family?” He nodded over at Pip and Frodo. “There’s enough to outfit every kid in town, and it’s all in the front hall, and Mom’s getting a little tired of tripping on it. So everybody, please come and get it.”

“I’ve got all the stuff we need,” Arwen pointed out.

“And Elrond Jr’s first word won’t be Mama or Papa but Visa,” Merry continued. “The rest of you, please! Mom’s a Took, y’know.” Pip nodded in sympathy with his cousin.

“That’s very kind of your family, Merry. We don't have cradles,” Rosie said, smiling. “So the babies are sleeping in the pram as well. It's working out fine, they like to be together, and they're small enough that there's room for everyone.”

“Perfect for those midnight strolls, then,” Faramir added, winking at Sam.

“And you can bounce it, gently like,” Sam continued, coloring a bit. “That settles them.”

“Really?” Eowyn asked, narrowing her eyes. “How do you get that monster into the car, though? Does it fold? I don’t think I could get that into the Land Rover!”

“No, but we don't have a car,” Rosie pointed out. “It's okay, though, they seem to like walks.”

“So does Sam,” Frodo whispered loudly.

“Mine folds,” Arwen said. “You just pop out the car seat part, and it all folds and fits in the trunk.”

“Very convenient,” Gandalf told her with a smile. “And Elrond Jr is looking very elf-like today. New hair?”

“This? Oh, it was just a little thing I came up with,” Arwen purred. “Since we’re all making them look like the culture they belong to.”

Aragorn snorted, his head still on the desk, his eyes still closed. “Took four hours and a diaper change. Which I got to do.”

“I changed his outfit afterward,” Arwen pointed out.

“I’m interested,” Gandalf said, raising his voice slightly, “in how those of you in cross cultural relationships are dealing with the challenges.”

Bilbo made an indeterminate noise behind his hand but quickly covered it up with a cough.

“Frodo turned my half human daughter into a hobbit princess!” Boromir exploded, standing up so quickly his chair fell over.

“You didn’t care what she looked like anyway!” Frodo shot back, leaning forward in his own seat.

“Shhhh!” came from half the group.

“And,” Frodo continued, lowering his voice to a hiss, “you had better go to Merry’s and get her a proper bed. You’ve got her sleeping in a dresser drawer!”

“She likes it!” Boromir protested.

“You don’t, like, close the drawer, do you?” Kili asked, instinctively holding Vili closer.

“What kind of a father do you think I am?” Boromir asked, rounding on Kili.

“One who shouldn’t care what the baby looks like, but that she’s being taken care of!” Kili told him.

“Just like you, right, Kili?” Pip put in, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“What Kili means, Boromir, is that you and Frodo need to work together. Just passing Precious like the puck after school every day isn’t enough,” Eowyn said, cutting Pip off. “You need a plan.”

“But he doesn’t care!” Frodo began.

“Are you giving him a chance?” Rosie put in, standing up. “Did you ask him what he wanted Precious to look like? Because, to be honest, Frodo, she looks just like you. I can see why Boromir might be a little put out. But Boromir, Kili’s right, too, it’s not what she looks like. You two are going to make her a nervous wreck.”

“Just take the hair off her toes and give her round ears. Then she’ll look like both of you,” Arwen said, bouncing Elrond Jr gently. 

Rosie turned to stare at her for a moment, then turned back to Frodo and Boromir, hands on her hips. “Sure, you could do that. But I want you to do something else besides. Go to Merry’s and get the things you need for Precious together. It would be good for both of you.”

Bilbo glanced at Gandalf, who had the tiniest trace of a smile under his grey beard.

“Fine, we’ll go right after class,” Frodo said, settling back into his chair. “But you’d better show up with her, Boromir!”

“Alright, but none of this would have happened if you’d married me instead, Rosie,” Boromir said, sitting back down.

“How does she do that?” Faramir whispered to Sam.

“Lots of siblings and cousins,” Sam whispered back. “Nobody crosses Rosie when she uses that tone.”

“Legolas? Gimli?” Gandalf asked.

“We’re embracing both parts of her heritage. It hasn’t caused any problems.” Legolas shrugged.

“That’s because she’s a dwarf,” Frodo muttered, still stinging from Rosie’s remarks.

“Not so,” Gimli pointed out. “She’s half elf.”

“She’s got a beard and wearing chain mail, Gimli,” Boromir said, joining Frodo in the hopes of deflecting some of the attention away from his and Frodo’s spat. “You don’t get more dwarven than that.”

Gimli looked at Legolas, who stood and held Mithril up carefully.

“Observe,” the dwarf said. “She has a beard, but her hair is braided in the traditional style for an elven girl.”

“That’s true,” Arwen put in. “Didn’t you know that?”

“Also,” Gimli said, as Legolas unsnapped the chain mail sleeper, revealing a teal garment underneath, “she is wearing an elvish silk gambeson.”

“Very stylish,” Bilbo added.

“And,” Legolas said, doing the snaps back up, “we’re trying very hard to avoid projecting any stereotypes on her and allow her to grow up into her own person.”

“Eats like an elf, snores like a dwarf, strong as an ox, giggles like, well, neither of you giggle,” Merry said, musingly.

“She chuckles, thank you very much,” Gimli said, as Legolas took his seat. “Occasionally she even laughs.”

“Like herself,” Legolas said, holding her up to look around. 

“So when she turns fourteen and wants to shave and cut her hair off, you’ll be fine with that?” Frodo asked.

“Flour sack!” Eowyn said loudly, to no one in particular.

“Aragorn? How do you feel about having a half elf baby?” Faramir called. A muted snore was the only answer. Arwen shook her head and smiled fondly at him.

“It’s not a big deal for us,” she said. “He’s got some elf blood in him anyway.”

“So how do you and Fili and Kili decide what to do, Sigrid?” Gandalf asked.

“Yes, Sigrid, does his dad or his uncle have the last say?” Pip asked.

She smiled at Kili. “I do, Pip. I’m the one who went through all the labour.”

“What labour? You pulled out a piece of paper!” Merry protested.

“You’re all missing the point,” Sigrid told them. “Dwarf, human, hobbit, elf, it doesn’t matter. Babies are babies. Frankly, I’m more worried about figuring out which cry means he’s hungry than that he’s got a beard longer than my father’s.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bilbo told her. “Now, I’m meeting with your parents tonight, and I’d like to know if you have any concerns you’d like me to bring up at the meeting.”

“Transportation,” Legolas said immediately.

“We’ve been over that, Legolas,” Bilbo told him with a sigh.

“I’ve got a line on a side car, though”

“You can’t put Mithril in a sidecar!” Eomer sputtered.

“Of course not. I’d be holding her.” Gimli retorted.

“People put them in those little tent trailers and pull them behind bicycles.” Legolas pointed out.

“I’ve made a wee helmet for her,” Gimli added out, as Bilbo folded his arms and tapped his foot.

“There’s always Gimli’s van,” Merry interjected helpfully. There was a collective shudder of horror through the room.

“I’ll mention that you may need to make other arrangements, Legolas, that’s it. But under no circumstance is any baby to ride in Gimli’s van, with Gimli driving, am I clear? That goes for all of you.”

“There were frantic nods of agreement.

“Good!” Bilbo started breathing again. “Anything else?”


End file.
